Spark Rising
by Delhirose
Summary: On Lillian's fifth birthday, her life changes. Berlin is bombed and she is separated from her family. Fortunately, she is rescued from the war-torn streets; unfortunately, it's by Hydra. For almost 10 years, she is experimented on and trained, learning and adapting. However, when Captain America defeats the Red Skull, everything changes. **REWRITTEN START AT CHAPTER ONE PLEASE!**
1. Chapter 1

**Congrats you've found another basic af young-female-hydra-escapee story! I know this storyline is kinda over used and cliche but whatever. Set during Captain America and soon after Ultron.**

 *****************NOTICEEEEEE:**********This story has kinda been rewritten. I changed some details, so please reread and tell me what you think. I'm replacing chapters so sorry if it's different but I kinda like it better, but please share your opinions.**

 **Anyway I'm putting everything up now so yeah anyway…. Thanks to Alevyilan, Aunknowntimelord, Dark Yellow Dino, JustCharlottle, Kurochach, LightProud, NightWind101, RaysonInTheSun, Thebookworm33, cleo0421, crawler123, ebarnea25, , fairyblue1123, kikikiwistarfire, locky3670, strangeperson123, LilyBlack120, and orutan321 for following/favoriting/reviewing. Also here's some reviews because idk where else to put them:**

 **Snowcatt: So yeah, since your review I updated it and added a little thing about her vocabulary so it will make sense for now and it will be elaborated in later chapters as well. Thank you so much for reviewing and pointing that out though and I hope I helped.**

 **MegaGeek: OMG your review actually made me get off my ass and get some shit together. I think the all caps helped. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this version better than the original. THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUU**

* * *

 **Chapter ONE**

 **Hydra Base, 1945**

"-activate emergency protocol immediately." The announcement echoed through the underground facility. Men and women scrambled around, matching red insignias on all their dark gray uniforms. In the middle of the chaos, two figures stood still.

"The assets are being taken care of I assume?" The first man said, the tranquility of his voice greatly contrasting with the the rest of the room.

"As ordered, Director Kaufmann. 0297, 0298, 0363, and 0352 are preparing for cryo now. So the rumors are true? Schmidt is gone, Hydra is fallen?" The second responded.

"Oh, we are not fallen, Kruger. Sometimes to survive, you must pretend to be dead." Kaufmann began walking briskly across to the elevators, jostling through the frantic agents and scientists. "Come with me."

As the Elevator arrived at the lowest floor of the bunker and the doors slide open, Ernst Kaufmann knew something was wrong immediately. Soldiers were yelling, panicked, and he could smell burnt flesh in the air. The atmosphere was charged, and under his stiff uniform, he felt the hairs on his arms raise with electricity.

And maybe a little fear.

"Kaufmann, what is going on?" He says it cluelessly, of course. The day he actually receives extra men from Hydra, everything goes to shit, and they're clueless.

"Stay here," He ordered, and began to stride down the long hallway to the cryo preparation room, various lab workers running in the opposite direction. Kaufmann continued, ignoring them, a sinking feeling in his gut. He was greeted with a horrific scene. At least twenty security agents were shouting, weapons drawn on a young girl in the center of the room. At her feet were three bodies, fellow test subjects. Their exposed skin was red and purple, uniforms black and smoking.

Kaufmann opened his mouth, shocked, before anger set in. "What have you done?" He screamed, face red. The security quieted as he repeated himself, louder. "What have you done?"

Blue bolts of energy arced between her fingers, traveling up her thin arms and encircling a set of narrow shoulders. Slowly, the girl turned around. Her face lacks the stoic, uncaring look that had been engraved into her since she was face, instead a mess of emotions. Tears streamed down her face, illuminated unnaturally by her glowing, hate filled eyes. Trembling, she lifts a shaking hand up, crackling with power and reaching for him, as she she took a step forward.

"Lily!" Kaufmann shouted, a name he had never even uttered aloud. A name that, up until now, had just been old ink on file paper his middle aged mind had barely processed. It hadn't been important.

Suddenly, the blue in the girl's eyes fades down she falls to her knees, a piercing scream tearing from her throat as she clawed at the thick rubber coated collar around her neck.

Kaufmann turned around, face pale as he takes in Kruger holding a small black box. His finger rests on a large white button. Maybe not so clueless after all.

"Sir… are you alright?" Kruger asks.

After a pause Kaufmann responds, his gaze returning to the girl now passed out on top her victims. Ten years, and that's the closest she'd come to actually killing him.

"Get her in cryo. Now."

He watches as the remaining lab workers, dressed in insulated suits, cautiously lifted her limp form, into the first chamber before closing the opening. She looked so small, her long limbed body folded on the circular platform, presses against the glass walls. He nodded, and one technician started the process. The girl woke as the cold stasis gel began to fill the tank. She stood, shivering violently, and pounded against the clear reinforced glass, eyes once again livid and glowing, screaming unintelligible words. The oxygenated gel in the tank rises, leaving no room for air. She goes under, struggling to hold her breath.

"You've seen this happen before," Kaufmann muttered in response to her continued struggle and unblinking glare. "You're just making it harder. Prolonging the inevitable. Just breath in." Breath in so I can get out of this cursed place, he added.

As if she heard this, her almost purple face turns into one of resignment and her whole body shudders, choking. Slowly, her movements turn sluggish, the sedative in the solution taking effect.

Trancelike, the man walks forward to the girl, now suspended in the middle of the chamber. He stops as his foot hits something on the ground.

It's a body.

A child, really. No, an investment. A lost investment now, and Kaufmann snarls in disgust at the waste. "Don't bother cleaning this up, there is no time. Continue emergency protocol and evacuate."

The crowd hurries to action and Kaufmann stands still.

"Are 0297, 0363, and 0352 viable?" Kruger asked.

"Negative," He replied, not bothering to check properly for signs of life. He was too familiar with subject 0298 and her abilities. The other man stiffened as if surprised, prompting Kaufmann to momentarily reassess his subordinate's emotions. Judging from his poorly concealed disturbed face, he was probably new to this. The experiments could not be thought of as human anymore. He had learned that a long time ago. Hydra could not afford such feelings.

"Director, we need to leave," Kruger recovered, shaking is head subtly. "Are we transporting th-the subject?"

"No," Kaufmann replies finally breaking his stare. "It will be retrieved when the situation is safer. We need to accept our losses here and follow orders."

As the pair begin to clear the lab, the power abruptly cut out. The room was completely dark for a second, everyone frozen, before red emergency backup lights flickered on, casting everything in an ominous crimson glow.

"The tank's finished it's set up, correct?" Kaufmann whispered, grabbing a worker by the shoulders. The cryogenic sleep chamber Hydra had manufactured for certain...situations. Situations such as now. Deep down, Kaufmann had suspected, every since the creation of the American's superhero, that Hydra was doomed. It was a loss that had now ultimately lead to this, a situation. However, he was not stupid enough to voice these opinions and Hydra would find a way to survive. It always had. Cut off one head, two more shall take its place. This was just one head. "And the fail safe is set up?"

"Yes sir," the man answered. "Both."

"Get out then, everyone," No sooner the words left his mouth, the monitor started sparking, electricity jumping from the device to the man typing on it. Astounded, Kaufmann looks back at the girl. Through her eyes are closed, they were still glowing underneath her eyelids, otherworldly.

"Out!" Kaufmann shouts again, grabbing the man who was struck by the collar of his singed lab coat. He takes one last look before closing the door for the last time, knowing his problems had just begun.

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 **Hope you enjoyed. Thank for reading and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter TWO**

 **Present**

Six SHIELD agents shuffled single file out of the jet black helicopter. The air was cold and dry, the once serene of the isolated forest broken by the din of their transportation. All six were relatively relaxed. The mission was supposed to be a standard follow-up after some German hikers claimed to have found a Hydra base off one of the trails. Pictures posted on the internet had inevitably attracted SHIELD's attention and warranted an investigation. If any of the agents had been asked their opinion, they would have responded it was bullshit. All except for one.

Nonetheless, here they were, silently persevering through the thick growth. The first in line reference a gps locator, each step forward bringing them closer to the mission objective. Upon reaching the coordinates, the first agent slowed to a stop. Standing before the agents was a large door, and as promised, with a familiar carving, faint from over seventy years of weathering.

"Well, I'll be damned…" One of the other agents muttered, dropping his gun to hang by it's shoulder strap to trace the snake's with his free hand. "After all these years."

"We get it. Hydra." The older, more experienced, Agent Sewell said, holding up a camera. Secretly, he was always amused with the newbies's fascination and it made him feel honored to have been apart of the fight against them. It was nice too, because since the discovery of Hydra infiltrators in Shield two years ago there had been a lot of new recruits. "Now move so I can take photos for evidence."

A few minutes later, the ancient door creaked forward, opened by a Stark Technologies code breaker. One by one, they shuffled in, weapons drawn. Inside it was dark, and simultaneously, six flashlights illuminate pools of white light on the cement floors. Each agent moved slowly, as if a wrong foot fall could cause the entire structure to collapse. After locating the base's breaker room, the team is able to restore power and the base was filled with dim light.

The main room is large and filled with lab desks and boxy, old computers. The spread out to explore the base, now confident it was empty. One agent attempted to revive the electronics, and another began shuffling through a row of filing cabinets.

"They had warning," One agent said quietly, dumping black ash from a metal trash can on to the floor. "Must've burned everything."

"And for nothing, we didn't even have this exact location confirmed until..well now I guess."

"Not for nothing, dammit. They could have had information we could have used now. We still don't even know if Shield is completely clean yet of their filth."

An agent on the far side of the room, separate from their simplistic, bickering group smiled at that. Shield could never be clean of Hydra. They were two sides of the same coin. He was also new to the team, but lacked the happy go lucky innocence of the true newbie. His crooked nose, marked permanently from being broken a few too many times and his almost snake like eyes distinguished him as different from the other recruits. Unknown to them, he had his own mission.

Turning around one last time to ensure they were locked in their squabble, he began exploring the base further. If what was allegedly here was still present, he wanted to be first. Three flights of rickety metal stairs later he found it.

The heavy door was shut, identical to all the other doors in the compound. The other doors, however, lacked the branched pattern of scorch marks growing from the frame. Without hesitating he grabbed the door handle, pulling with all he had.

A painfully loud screech echoed out, and the man with the crooked nose cringed. Seconds later, other voice began to filter through:

"The hell was that?"

"Where's Smith?"

"Dammit! Michaels, pay fucking attention. This is why we don't like rookies wandering off to explore by themselves."

"It's from downstairs. Yes, shit I'm not stupid. Of course I tried the comms. They're not working."

When the five other agents got to the lowest floor, they found Smith walking toward them, sheepishly looking at the ground.

"What the hell?" Of course, easiest mission ever, and a rookie manages to fuck it up. How would this reflect on his leadership if he couldn't keep five men in check.

"Sorry, sir." He has been so, so, close. He knew what was behind the door. He was certain, in fact, at this point. Time to suck up.

"I just saw a sudden surge in the break room, energy from this room," That would at least line up, he thought. Aloud he said. "I thought it could be dangerous."

The mission ordinate looked at him hard. "Okay, let's open it then. While you were playing Dora the explorer, we stuck to the mission and searched the top two floors."

"Yes sir," Together, he and one of the other agents wrenched it open. The other man instinctively reached for a light switch, found it yelped.

"It shocked me!"

"Agent, focus…" a third agent trailed off, eyes wide, as the door was pushed open all the way.

In front of the six men were four tall, floor to ceiling, cylindrical glass chambers, all but one empty. In it was a small girl, floating in a clear blue substance. Her feet were bare, sticking out from a boxy, over sized, grey paper thin uniform. A thick black collar was wrapped around her slender neck, contrasting with her pale skin. Two long, blond braids twisted behind her, suspended weightlessly with the rest of her features. One thin arm was stretched out to the glass, one finger only a few inches from the frosted barrier.

"The hell? They preserved bodies too?" The agent appeared sick.

"The girl's alive." Smith spoke, only realizing afterward with a hiss how certain of it he sounded. However the Shield agents were more distracted by the discovery of a small stack of bones, three complete, slightly mummified, skeletons. From the child sized, charred remains of gray uniforms, to the jarring, smallness of the skulls, they appears to be the same age as the girl in the chamber. Four cryo chambers for four experiments.

"The fuck…"

* * *

 **Thx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter THREE  
November 20th, 1936, Berlin, Germany**

"Happy Birthday Lillian."

I looked into the weary face of Jon, my older brother. I was leaning against him, so tired it felt like I would pass out standing up. It was raining outside and I was kept conscious by the rolls of thunder and bright flashes of lightning creating sinister shadows in the dim warehouse.

"How do you know?" I asked, skeptical. Jon often made up stuff to try to make me happy. A game that I'd stopped seeing the fun in awhile ago.

He nodded his head discreetly to a crumpled newspaper lying on the dirty wooden floor of the textile factory. I ran over and picked it up, running back to him. I scrutinized the paper. It was beat up and ripped, harder to read then even the thick books Jon snuck to me at the orphanage. The one's with really small letters and big words. I grinned; November 20th, 1936. He was right.

"Five?" I smiled again and held up my right hand, all fingers outstretched.

"Yep," he answered, showing his crooked teeth in a rare smile. "We'll celebrate when we get home."

'Home' was a loose term. Accurate if one could consider a crowded orphanage a 'home'. Of course it was all I'd ever known. Jon had told me tales of a large farmhouse, with sprawling fields of vegetables and grain. A table full of steaming hot food, every evening. Before Mama had gotten sick and gone away and we'd had to sell this supposed paradise and move to Berlin. Before Papa had left because of the fight. He swore to me on the Lord it wasn't a game, but it just couldn't possibly be true.

I giggled anyway. I was a year older now. Five. This meant he'd sing his goofy birthday song, even if it was in hushed tones under scratchy thin army blankets.

Jon heard me and smiled wider before his electric blue eyes grew wide and he put a finger to his thin lips. Too late, one of the factory overlookers had noticed.

"You," he said in harsh tones, pointing at me. "Row three, broken thread." They like to use little kids for repairs because we could fit under. Jon didn't like it when I did; we'd all heard stories of lost fingers and toes. But the past year it seemed like he had grown a foot taller, and he could no longer stuff himself in the small cramped spaces.

I frantically rushed over to the row and began climbing under the machinery, my ragged brown dress tearing further as it caught on sharp nails and splinters. I was grateful now the older girls at the orphanage insisted on always braiding each other's hair tightly before we left every morning. If it were to get caught under here it would be impossible to untangle. That happened last year to another and they'd had to cut her hair so short she looked like a boy. Now, under the spinning machine, it was dark and I struggled to find the snapped thread. Scarlet thread for blood-red swastikas.

An loud air raid alarm sounded and I jumped, banging my head on the wood above my head. That noise. It was for bombs, explosions of fire dropped from the sky. Jon had said that noise meant to hide, and if I ever heard it I was to run and get to a shelter. I tried to crawl out of the machine before something shifted above me and fell, landing on my right leg. I tried to crawl again, but with each tug I could feel the skin on my leg tearing as tears spring from my eyes.

Suddenly a large hand grasped my small one and dragged me up. I scream as the piece of wood scraps the length of my calf. It's Jon.

"Lily, it's okay. It's okay," He pulls me into his scrawny chest and I immediately feel safer. He carefully touches my leg, and I start crying harder. "You're okay. I'll fix this. I promise."

"The siren, we need to hide." I whisper into his ear.

"Yes, we need to go," He stands up and turns away, his grip almost vice like now on my upper arm. "Hurry, and stay with me."

I hug him again as we push our way through the crowd of people hurrying to the shelter under the building. The siren is so loud. Finally we get to the factory basement, but there was no more room, too many others were already there fighting for the remaining space.

"We can make it home, the home's shelter is bigger."

"But Jon, we're not supposed to go outside, remember?" I whine.

He ignored me, pushing through the door out onto the cobblestone street and into the rain. It looks empty, save for a few individuals such as ourselves, who are also running frantically through the streets. I slow his steps, and he's pulling to move faster, half carrying me.

"But you said, you said," I continue. "To never go outside. That it is dangerous."

"We'll make it, I promise," He tells me as I cry, my bare feet rubbing raw on the stones. "It's just another false alarm, a drill. We'll laugh about how scared we are right now tomorrow. How silly we probably look, running around mad in the rain for no reason." However, his face is drawn and tense with worry, eyes searching above.

I mimic him, the sky is cloudy and dark. The thunder seems too loud, the bursts a mixture of short and violent and long, low, ominous rumbles. The rain is getting harder, almost more like hail, though its not cold enough for that yet. Each drop feels like it's leaving bruises.

"This isn't a game, right?" I ask.

"I'm not lying. It will be okay-," He doesn't finish.

We're almost home when a deafening explosion echoes through the street and then all there is hot, suffocating smoke.

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 **Thanks again for reading and again please review. I hope you like and if not please tell me why. Have a great day!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter FOUR**

 **Present**

"She's like thirteen." Michaels breathed.

"You're right Smith, she not dead. It's cryogenic sleep," Sewell replied. He had moved close to the chamber and was examining it. "Albeit, an older version of it. If I had to guess, probably from World War II."

"Doesn't explain the _child_ inside-,"

"Rookie, go see if you can get any info from the computers and shit," The commander ordered. He was already getting a headache. So much for that simple mission, he thought. As if they ever were.

"Well, are we getting her out or should we radio this in?" One of the other agents asked him.

"This is for people higher up, way _way_ higher up. Is the radio working yet?" As Sewell continued, Smith used this as an opportunity to explore some more. Maybe if he could find something else. He found his solution in on one of the lab tables, under what seemed like an inch of dust. A thick manila folder. It quickly found it's was into Smith's jacket.

"No, but-"

"Uh, Sir, I think we have a really big problem…" Michaels's face was unnaturally pale, as if all the blood had been drained from his body. His body was still hunched over the ancient computer.

"For the love of god, what else?"

"It seems like there was a fail safe. From over seventy years ago."

"What kind of fail safe?"

"The self destruct kind. The entire complex is wired to explode," The countdown reflected in his dark eyes. "We have seven minutes."

"Shit." One agent muttered.

"Smith, go with Cochran and do a quick sweep of this floor. Michaels, continue working on the tech. The rest of you, we have to get her," Sewells said calmly, pointing to the girl. "Out of here."

As the agents hurries to obey, Sewell and his two remaining men rushed to the cryo chamber. Running his hands along the top seam of the container, his fingers hit a notch and press, releasing the top. An audible pop echoed through the room from the pressure and even through their gear, a chill traveled through the men.

As soon as Sewell pushed open the top, the two other agents climbed to the top and dipped their arms in, having to reach up to their shoulders to grasp the girl's stick-like wrists. It took them less than a second to wretch the girl free of her prison. They gently set her limp body of the floor and one began checking for a pulse and breathing.

"There's a pulse, it's faint. No breathing-,"

Just then the girl instinctively coughed a weak, sickly sound. Her lungs sucked in ragged mouthfuls of air, starving for true oxygen. Soon after her frail looking frame was racked with violent shivers, the thin clothing wet and plastered to her pale skin.

"Four minutes. I got everything on a flash drive." Michael's called out.

"Good. Go outside and get a signal to call for the transport. We'll be right behind you after we pick up Smith and Cochran."

"Yes sir," He said before taking off for the exit.

"Can we move now?" He asked impatiently.

"Considering the situation, yes sir." The man picked her up, cradling her head against his shoulder. Nothing could distract from how light and corpse like she looked. Sewell gestured for them to go after Michaels before talking on last look around the room and following suit.

He almost jumped out of his skin as he collided with the two team members he'd sent off to search. Both were walking hurriedly toward the stairwell and Sewell joined them. They began to climb at a run, the door shutting loudly, finally, behind them.

"Less than two minutes!" Michaels shouted down, the encroaching time pumping a fresh surge of adrenaline into each man's limbs.

As the group reached the main level, Sewell heard the telltale crackle of a radio. The signal was back. "This is Agent Sewell, requesting immediate retrieval." He shouted into the receiver. A few seconds later and everyone was outside, breathing heavily. Almost instantly, the loud chopping noise of helicopter rotors was above them.

"Time?"

"A minute."

The copter touched down in the narrow clearing and the team, plus one, was on board.

"Up, now!" Of of the men shouted to the pilot.

"Ti-," Another began to ask.

"Four, three, two, one…." Michaels said, hypnotized by his wristwatch.

Everyone looked down at the rapidly vanishing clearing expectantly. All was quiet for watch seemed like an eternity, and a deep, collective breath was let out.

"Well, I guess it was a dud, it-," Cochran was cut off by a low rumble, and the ground seemed to shake down below them. A red fireball consumed the forest in a rough outline of the complex.

As the smoke created a mini mushroom cloud and the pilot shifted the aircraft to avoid flying debris, a thick folder slipped out of Smith's jacket and onto the floor, scattering papers everywhere. Cochran picked up one sheet in particular, the image showing a blonde, five year old girl. She was wearing a ragged old fashioned dress, and photo was black and white, correlating with the date printed along the bottom: 1936. What really caught his eye about it was the wide-eyed, haunted look on her dirty, scraped up face, the torment in her delicate features. He had another realization as he saw another picture out of the corner of his vision, The girl in this one was much older, but it was undoubtedly the same one. By now, all attention was on him as he slowly moved the sheet of paper parallel to the gold haired girl they had just taken from the base. The two faces matched perfectly.

* * *

 **Thank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter FIVE**

 **1936**

I wake up coughing black, my eyes are itchy and watery, making my vision blurry. My throat hurts. My eyes hurt. Everything hurts. Something warm is dripping down the side of my face and there's red on my hands.

I stare at them, hypnotized, until someone presses a white bandage into my palm and I look up, disoriented. It's military truck full of other young children, all covered in ash and soot and nursing various injuries. One girl is crying hysterically, snot covering her pale face. Two other small children are silent, clutching at each other and I see more red spattering their clothes. The girl next to me is still, looking straight ahead.

Dazed, I press the cotton pad to the side of my head as the truck starts moving.

Then I remember Jon. He was right next to me. Where is he? I can't see him on the truck. I try to stand on shaky legs, when a man comes and grabs my arm, forcing me back down. His hair is dark, and his face is meticulously shaved, a sign he had money.

"Sit," he barks and the other children flinch.

"Where's my brother? His name is Jon, " I cry. "He needs help too."

The man frowns at that. He's standing in front of me, bracing himself on the bars that stretch over the back of the vehicle, his dark eyes souring the war torn streets.

Where's Jon?

"Sir, the hospital isn't this way-," the older girl next to me says as we turn a sharp corner.

"Stop the truck!" The man shouts suddenly, banging the back of the transport to signal the drivers. He's pointing down a narrow alley, and I make out the figure of another child through the smoke. The young boy is struggling to support the weight of an older man,

who looks to have been injured in the bombing.

As the truck rolls to a stop, effectively blocking the entrance of the alleyway, two more black clad men get out from the cab and make their way to the pair.

"Thank you, he got hit in the head with a-" the boy starts to say, before they grab him, leaving the elderly man alone to fall heavily to the ground. The boy immediately starts shouting for help as he is dragged to the truck. The man who made me sit down says a bad word.

One on the men hits the boy on the head, hard. It's quiet again.

The boy is thrown up into the back of the truck with the rest of us and we start moving again, faster this time. He doesn't move.

"Where are we going?" I just want to go back, find Jon and Mother. Away from these evil

people.

"Hydra." He replies, emotionless

* * *

"And sweetheart, what's your name?" A lady with red lips asked me. She already bandaged my head and the scratches on my legs.

"Is this so Jon can find me?" The man was wrong, earlier. This is exactly like a hospital. I don't know what Hydra is. There are two long rows of beds. At each bed, soldiers like the ones from the truck stand, watching us. I don't like them.

I think we were on the truck for a long time. It had gotten really dark so I fell asleep, and woke up in this white room with blinding lights from the ceiling.

The older girl from the truck is sitting on the bed next to me, glaring at everyone who passed. The boy who was helping the old man is on the bed across from me. He still hasn't woken up. Another boy is on the left, crying.

"Hum?" She leans closer to my face, like she didn't hear me quite right.

"Jon? He's my brother."

"Oh, yes. Of course." She laughs a little as she says this, under her breath. She doing weird stuff now, tapping my knees, putting a squeezy thing on my arm, looking in my eyes and ears.

"Name?"

"Lillian Weber." She scribbles something on a clipboard.

She smiles at me like a wolf that had just caught sight of it's prey. Her teeth look too big in her mouth. I don't tell her this though. The orphanage people told me it was rude to say stuff like that out loud. "How old are you?"

"Five," I say, holding up a hand, fingers outstretched.

"And where are your parents?"

"My dad is a soldier. My mom is sleeping and she's not coming back. Is my brother okay? Will you find him?"

She is silent before turning to a tall soldier dressed in black behind her. He gives her a blue bag with a long tube hanging from it. She stands up and hooks it to a metal pole attached to the top of my bed.

"What's that?" I ask, pointing to the bright, almost glowing bag.

"It's medicine, it'll make you feel better." She then takes a long thin stick of metal out of her bag. She attaches it to the tube and the blue stuff flows to the end.

"Oh, okay." That makes sense, this is a hospital. "Wait, what are you doing now?" I say it loudly, and the soldier stiffens, taking a step toward me. Doctor Lane tries to grab my arm, the long metal piece in her other hand.

"No!" I'm screaming now. "No, no, no."

"Lillian, you need to relax. It's just a needle. I need you to be still for me." I don't listen, and Doctor Lane looks up and nods. Suddenly, another person grabs my other arm. The soldier. He moves it to the other side of the bed and untucks a metal handcuff, cinching it around my wrist. I try to kick at him, but he does the same to my ankles, and Doctor Lane finally grabs my left arm.

"Be still," she says stern, yet coldly calm. "The more you struggle, the longer this will take."

I scream again as she slides the needle into the crook of my elbow.

It burns.

I scream louder. I feel it, flowing everywhere. I try to scratch the needle out, but I can't reach.

She sighs again, and reaches into her bag once more. Doctor Lane pulls out a white rag and, holding my nose until I open my mouth, and stuffs it inside, muffling my cries.

It burns so much. I look at my arm, and I swear I can see it in my veins. Everything's so blurry now.

I want to sleep.

But there was something… I can't remember now. It's fuzzy, loud and quiet at the same time

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 **Thx so much for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I actually liked writing this and kinda liked the end result, hope you do too:)**

 **Thanks to Christoffer Mrch, Elizabetch, Professor R.J Lupin1, Tick Tock Follow The Clock, for following/favoring since I submitted the rewritten chapters, and thx to fairyblue1123 for reviewing again. Glad you're enjoying my story and I'll try to keep it up.**

* * *

 **Chapter SIX**

 **July, 2015**

The first thing I notice when I open my eyes is how _cold_ I am. It's not like the kind of cold you would get from walking outside in the winter, or from a small breeze. It was deep, deep in my bones. In my very core.

I don't...remember. What happened? This isn't Hydra. I keep my eyes closed, cutting off my sight to strengthen the other senses. The sounds of pipes and air conditioning is too quiet, almost muffled. Much more importantly the buzz is different. It's stronger now than I've ever felt it before my entire life and it's everywhere. I open my eyes to slits, my vision darkened through my eyelashes. The bed I'm in is big, adult sized. I'm not wearing that horrid grey uniform, meaning the only mark left of Hydra is the small black tattoo on my inner wrist. Right below my number: 0298. Which is right below a vertical, raised, white scar. Instead I'm in a set of dark blueish sweats, with a small eagle insignia on the left chest. Stickers with wires running to a weird machine are stuck on my hands and I can feel them on my face. I fight the urge to rip them all off.

Suddenly, door handle rattles and close my eyes, struggling not to shiver. Two sets of heavy footsteps but must stop just inside the doorway. A lighter more delicate pair of heeled footfalls walk closer, and I subtly take deep breaths to keep from trembling. What's going on?

"We know you're awake." Says a female voice. I don't move. It could be a bluff.

"The monitors. Trust me, we know your resting vitals because you've been out since you were recovered about a week ago." I struggle to understand the voice. 'Recovered'? I can't remember. It must of just been another round of trials. That would explain the memory gaps, but not this place. A few more moments pass before I see the pointlessness of pretending and give in to curiosity, opening my eyes.

The first thing I take in before the speaker is the two armed guards behind her. Again, they are not Hydra, but instead have the same eagle logo on their uniforms. They each have a visible gun, but weirdly I don't recognize the model- I chalk it up to all the other memory issues I'm currently experiencing- and various other bulges that suggest hidden weapons. The voice is wearing a wearing an official looking pantsuit.

"Ah, there she is. Sleeping beauty." What the hell is sleeping beauty? I just stare at her, blankly.

"My name is Maria Hill. Now, I have no doubt you are very confused right now…" she trails off as she sees me notice the pair of handcuffs locking my wrists to the thick plastic handrails of the bed. I shake them, testing the cuff's strength.

"Please, those are just a precaution. You trust us, we trust you, we can get those taken care of. After you show us some trust." I don't respond.

"She does speak English, right? The file said that at least?-," She says as she presses her finger up to her ear and seems to mutter to herself. I'm puzzled by this action before I sense the electricity behind her ear.

"Where am I?" As I speak though, something far greater renders everything else void. The lightness of my neck, the absence of the constant pressure upon my throat; the collar was gone. I could barely remember a time when it hadn't been present to choke me, promising pain at the command of a little button. "You got it off?"

"Oh yes, tricky little piece of work that was. Now if you can answer some questions for us, your file we recovered was incomplete." She narrows her eyes. "Let's get this off the table first. You are an enhanced, correct?"

"What?" I asked.

"Abilities?" She clarifies and I cough in response, my mouth suddenly dry. "Ah, the nurse did tell me. You're comatose for a week and where are my manners? I'll be right back with a glass of water."

"Wait. This isn't Hydra." I say and she turns back around. "Who are you?"

"Shield, ma'am. Strategic homeland intervention, enforcement and logistics division. Hydra is gone." She must see the relief in my face. Even through all the many masks my conditioning built up, no amount of stoicism can hide my relief at that.

"You're safe now." She said with an understanding tone. Like she's dealt with this before. "Stay right there," she awkwardly pauses for a moment as I attempt to lift my arms and she shrugs before continuing. "We have _a lot_ to explain to you."

As she leaves I fall from being propped up on my elbows to flat on my back. I lay there for moment to give time for the guards to follow her out before I try it. Stretching out my thumb and index finger, I give a minuscule surge, barely above a static shock you would get from charged clothing. A tiny white blue bolt flashes between them. I smile, not having to worry about the collar and I want to surge with all my power on my own accord. That would be bad though, so I don't. I give another small surge because I can't help it just as the door opens again.

It's not the lady with short dark hair. Instead it's a burly man with a crooked nose. Immediately I sense there's something off about him.

"Experiment 0298." He addresses me. "Hail Hydra."

That word, experiment, triggers something inside me and instantly I remember in flashes. The alarms. Agents pulling me out of my cell to the lower levels of the base. Meeting Annalise, Haydn, and Karl in that room. The room with large glass tubes and all the scientists. The four of us we crowded together in a circle of guards. I remember electricity pouring out of my bodies into the bodies of my only friends. Just enough to kill.

"No." I say firmly, praying it doesn't sound like I'm trying to convince myself. "Hydra is gone. She said Hydra is gone."

"We will never be gone. We are Hydra. Ready to comply?" He looks down at me.

"I'm not Hydra." I said, taking deep breaths. His arm snakes out and he grabs my arm, turning it over and pressing his thumb to the Hydra insignia tattoo.

"You will always be Hydra. We will take you back with us, regardless of your answer. The higher ups would just like to know how you wish to be treated, which side you're on. They're actually quite glad to have rediscovered you and are willing to overlook _certain actions_ from your past. You need to choose. I'll ask one more time, ready to comply?" He speaks quickly, as if wanting to get out of the room quickly. The Shield logo is his uniform but Hydra propaganda is spewing from his mouth. The lady was wrong. I am anything but safe.

"Hail Hydra." I respond.

"So your time under has wisened you," He says, and reaches to under the handcuffs. I wait for him to undo the left one, and as soon as he opens second cuff, I surge as hard as I can.

He can barely scream, the volts impairing all his functionalities. The smell of burning hair fills my mouth and nose, but I'm used to it. I climb of the bed, delightfully ripping the wire sticker things off, and notice with annoyance that the last cuff is still on, just one side attached to my wrist. As soon as my feet hit the floor, my legs buckle and my muscles turn to jelly. I growl and surge in frustration, my hair hair raising as ribbons of electricity crawl over my body. _Come on,_ I think, _you need to escape._

Suddenly red light began to flash, bathing the room in a bloody filter, and a blaring alarm sounding. With that I found a way to get back on my feet and I stood, balancing precariously. I run painfully to the door, and feeling the threads of energy, pry off the light switch cover to reach deep inside and place my hands on the bare wires. I let out another strong pulse of lighting, and the circuits began to override, plunging the building into darkness and cutting off the alarm.

I open the door and take off as fast as I can, no idea where I am going. All I knew was that I had to get away. The necessity to stay calm took over instinctively, and my senses reached out. Maria had had a small electronic in her ear and I could detect them coming down the hallway I was currently in.

"Come out now." A familiar female voice calls out. Maria Hill. She was so nice, I'm tempting to come out before I think about how that would appear. She doesn't know that man was Hydra. To her, I just killed one of her agents and knocked out the power to whatever building this is. That or she's Hydra herself. I can't take the risk. I will not let anyone control me again.

I turned around a corner and using the earpieces to avoid any other guards. After going up three flights of stairs and countless hallways, I find an exterior door and dart outside.

* * *

The sky is dark, like the sun has just set, and a misty cold surrounds me, although it's not as cold as the chill inside me. I'm in a wide alleyway and I take a second to catch my breath before running again. As soon as I get out of the side street though, my breath is gone again. The buildings are tall. Too tall. There are lights everywhere, huge colorful moving pictures cover the buildings. It's loud. Honks and shouting and noisy engines. I could have stood there for hours if not for the crushing hand that grips my upper arm.

Reflexively, I surge. However the guard is wearing some sort of thick insulative covering. I swing my other arm around and before he can catch it, I claw his helmet and face protection off and let out a shock straight into his skull, making sure it's non fatal this time. Just enough to incapacitate him. Guards are behind him and I take off again, not stopping for anything.

I run for what seems like an eternity, taking random streets and turns until I'm positive I've lost them. Sometimes on the edge of my vision I swear there's a shadow trailing me, swinging from building to building. Occasional search lights come inexplicitly from the sky and I have to dodge them to avoid being seen. _You can't let them catch you, you can't let them catch you,_ I repeat in my head over and over. That's still the only thing going through my head when a circle of white light sweeps in front of me and I jump off the sidewalk into the street. It's still the only thought as a horn blares in my ear, and screeching tires slide against the ground and something slams into me.

 _You can't let them catch you, you can't let them catch you, you can't let them catch you..._

* * *

 **Thxxxxxx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok so how I have this story set up right now is to like do flashbacks to reveal stuff as it goes on but I don't really like that now (bc I thought it'd be cool you know, revelations and stuff but honestly it might be above my current level), but it's too late to change. So, I'm just gonna go with it and (I know I'm barely in) and maybe do a rewrite later so I can get criticism and get y'alls opinions so the final will actually be better? I don't know, I had a clear train of thought with I started writing this into I swear. It's gone now. Anyway…**

 **Thank you UnitedLuck for reviewing! Language was something I was gonna address first chapter but tbh I didn't wanna deal with it. You're right and I realize now it kinda is important...yeah duh. I don't really want to plug in all the dialogue to google translate for half the story and then just put the original dialogue in parenthesis. But please tell my if you think that would improve the story. The OC being taught English will be revealed in another flashback. Thanks again for the awesome feedback.**

 **Thanks also to fairy blue for reviewing again and The-Dark-Love-Writer, vixen122, and sheepinafield14 for following/favoriting.**

 **Again...don't really like this chapter but here it's is. Thanks again for whatever feedback you all have I need to go learn chemical nomenclature or some shit. Byeee**

* * *

 **Chapter SEVEN**

 **November, 1936**

"What's the total number at now, Kaufmann?" Abraham Erskine asked.

"Four hundred and six,-" Kaufmann replied.

"You've used my experimental serums on four hundred and six children," The man breathed, horrified. "I gave you the prototypes two months ago. That many in two months?"

"It's for the cause, for Hydra."

"But most will not survive. I did not understand you would be using it so soon. I thought-I thought," He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I was under the impression it was to be researched further before human trials. It's simply not ready."

"Are you backing out, Erskine? Do not give us a reason to doubt your loyalty. We are at war, and because of that we must accept that we must do these terrible things."

"Of course, sir. I didn't mean it like that. You're right, we don't have the time."

Kaufmann raised his eyebrows, and gave the other man a guarded smile. "Well, would you like to to continue? There were survivors."

"How many?" He asks, half horrified and half curious.

"Four." The director answered with a smile.

"And the results?" The words came out automatically, but deep down Abraham Erskine didn't want to know the answer. He'd been forced to give them the serum. It wasn't his fault, was it?

* * *

I don't remember waking up, just waves of conscious pain and warped delirium. My head hurts and, sure enough, the needle is still in my arm, a full bag of the Doctor's serum hanging above my head. There's a cold sweat covering my body and my teeth chatter uncontrollably. I groan.

"Hey," The mean looking girl next to me whispers. I awkwardly turn over to look at her. It's the same girl from the truck. One of her hazel eyes is lined with purple, a fresh bruise, contrasting with her porcelain skin. Her light brown hair is short, resting even with her shoulders. She looks close to Jon's age, around twelve.

"I'm Annaliese."

I don't say anything.

"It's okay." I tried not to think about the last time someone told me it was okay. "Your name's Lillian right? That's what you told the doctor two days ago," she continues talking.

"T-two days?"

"Yeah, you were were also out for the numbers."

"What?" My head is still swimming. It feels like I'm still half asleep.

"Look at your arm," Annaliese sighed. "Other arm. You're lucky you were still sleeping. It hurt."

Horizontally across my inner wrist is a number, 0298, and below that a small seal. It looks like an octopus in a circle. The skin around the black ink is pink and swollen.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Where are we? What's going on?" I ask desperately.

"I don't know. Be quieter, okay? They don't like us talking to each other." She said, turning the bruised side of her face for emphasis. I nod slowly. My stomach rumbles loudly.

"Yesterday they let us up for food around this time." Annaliese reassures me, looking around to make sure no one is nearby.

"My head hurts too bad to eat. Do you know what this stuff is?" I try to point to the tube again

"Shh," she cut herself off before breathing her next words. "She's coming."

The red-lipped doctor walks in, heel clicks echoing through the room. As she leans over Annalise, I look around the room for the first time since waking up.

It's different than last time. There are only three other beds with kids in them, counting Annaliese. All the rest are empty, neatly made as if no one had ever been there. On one is the boy who was trying to help the old man. His head is wrapped in a thick cap of bandages, skin deathly pale. For a second it doesn't even look like he's breathing. Next to him is another boy, this one awake. He's straining against his bonds, face worrying shade of red and the veins bulging in his neck. Purple bruising travels up his arms, peeking out from the thick, leather straps. There's something else... off about the room, but I can't tell exactly what it is.

I jump a little as Doctor Lane appears in front of me. She takes blood from my arm and checks my temperature. I want to tell her about everything that hurts, but Annaliese scowls putting a finger to her lips.

"I'm glad you're awake, Lily." I don't answer her. She talks on, as if used to carrying on one, sided conversations. "How do you feel? Anything strange?"

I shake my head. The Doctor runs a few more tests, scribbling on her clipboard. I look down as she finishes and moves to the red faced boy a few rows over, and Annaliese gives me a small nod of approval.

"Annaliese," I whisper as quiet as I can. "Where happened to everyone else?"

She doesn't answer me, instead looking down at her lap. "You don't want to know."

* * *

A few minutes later, Doctor Lane leaves the room, the guards unlock the straps on our beds and lead me, Analiese, and the boy down a long hallway to a larger room with food. The second boy we leave in the bed room. The smell is intoxicating and repulsive at the same time. The last I've eaten was breakfast at the orphanage two days ago and my stomach is screaming in hunger, but I feel like the very blood in my veins is poison. A man hands me a piece of bread, and I reluctantly nibble at it under his scrutiny. Annaliese eats hers quickly and I slip her the rest of mine.

"If we were stronger, we could get out." The other boy mutters to us. His dark brown hair is unkempt, curling over his oversized ears. A square jaw juts out, permanently clenched in anger.

"Oh shut up, Karl. I've been listening to you about this since we got here. You're not strong. You're a skinny, shrimpy little boy." Annaliese whispers back. He scowls at her before directing his mad gaze to the guards, hands turning to fists.

On the way back to the room, the Karl's guard sticks out his foot and he trips, falling hard on his bony elbows. Karl, screaming, whirls around and punches the man in the stomach. The full grown man flies back, hitting the cement wall, a spider web of cracks spreading from where he makes contact. Karl steps forward and wretches the man's arm upward, causing him to scream out now too, their roles reversed. His arm is bent at odd angle where there is no joint. Karl pauses, frozen, staring at his hands, at the muscles twisting under his skin.

"Code, yellow!" My guard shouts into his walkie talkie, holding even tighter to my arm. "Subject 0363 has manifested. Backup requested."

A girl's voice cries out behind me, and Annalise breaks free of her distracted guard, who swears, stumbling after her. Adrenaline fuels her escapade and she's almost to the end of the hallway when a group of soldiers turn the corner, trapping her. Annaliese stops, bare feet skidding across the ground, and instinctively raises her hands in front of herself as if they could stand a chance against the armed men running toward her.

Unbelievably, it does. The group of guards part like the Red Sea, pushed inexplicably to the sides of the hall. Annaliese's arms are now stretched open and shaking, like she's holding the men in place.

"Run!" I scream at her, kicking futilely against the hands holding me. "Why aren't you running?"

She takes a few awkward, uncoordinated steps forward before collapsing, blood pouring from her nose. The men fall to the ground released.

"-update? This is Director Kaufmann. Status update?" A cruel voice mechanically questions.

"Subject 0297 as well," Another answers into a small radio, between heavy breaths. "Has manifested. Subject 0363 has been apprehended, and 0297 is unconscious-,"

"What about her?" The man holding me asks. All the people now crowding the hall pause and stare at me like I'm a ticking time bomb. I don't understand why. I'm half their height and blubbering, snot running down my face.

"She can go in one of the cells. We didn't anticipate this to happen so soon." Doctor Lane says, seemingly materializing behind me.

There's a sharp pain in my neck, and then all I feel is calm. I'm not sad, and I don't care when they carry me through another hallway, away from Karl and Annaliese. It's the most at peace I've felt my whole life. My limbs are numb and heavy. They lay me down in a small, boxlike room. It's clean and white and bare, save for a single bed and toilet. As they leave, I stare at the new room. Something is missing. I lounge there motionless for what feels like hours before it hits me.

In every single room and hall I've been in, there hasn't been a single window

* * *

 **THXX for so much for reading and please review.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's chapter 8, finally. Thanks so much to everyone who followed and favorited. Sorry if this chapter's a little short and took forever. Ha omg I wrote most of this during finals last week and thought I posted this for some reason and realized I didn't just now sorrryyy. Kinda glad I didn't though because I got to proofread a little...yay. Anyway I was a bum and didn't do anything over break and just got back to school again today and it was hell. Okay, done complaining hope it's not too bad. Thx for readingggggg.**

 **United Luck- Thx so much for reviewing again, it means a lot. I really liked the idea about italics so I did that in this chapter and will probably change the others later. Although the anti-Semitic viewpoint would be interesting and I'll add some aspects regarding that in later chapters  
(but probably not a lot) as well as flashbacks to her learning English. Thanks so much for the advice, you're awesome!**

* * *

" _Hold her down."_ The man's voice, and identity are obstructed by a large paper mask.

" _She's even not trying to move."_

I love it when the scientists talk like I can't hear them, like I'm not lying between them as they carry on their conversation.

" _With this,"_ The man maliciously holds up a strange metal headset hooked up to cables of thick wiring. " _She will."_

" _Serum trial 183, injecting now."_ The other lab technician replies. At this point I don't even flinch as the giant needle is punched into the vein in my inner elbow. After four years of being a lab rat, of being experimented on, does that to a person. I look at the purple trace marks that dot my arms. What's one more?

A familiar, stomach turning nausea fills me as he depresses the syringe.

" _Tie her down now for phase two."_

I don't fight as he pulls leather straps across my wrists, ankles, hips and forehead. It's better not to. I don't flinch as he forces another strap between my teeth. There's no point anymore. All there is is pain. It's been the most reliable and constant thing for the last four years of my life, since I was brought here.

Goosebumps cover my skin two metal pieces are placed securely to my temples. I'm wearing a thin tank top and loose pants, my bare feet numb with cold. When was the last time I was warm? The man connects the metal to the wire he was holding and connects that to some machine at the edge of my vision. My skin itches where they've attached sticky paper monitors, which each feed yet another wire to a different machine. When he's finished adjusting the head piece, they both exit, leaving me alone in the torture chamber.

They reappear behind a clear window facing me, standing among a small team of dangerously curious scientists. One in particular catches my eye, her red lips a stark contrast against all the shades of white and grey. Her dark hair is perfectly coiled, as always. I know my hair is long, dirty and unkept. Her need for perfection makes me livid.

My upper lip involuntarily curls in disgust at her face. Or it might be fear.

How can a doctor be so evil. I mean, of course, she's tried to explain it to me. How they needed weapons to fight terrorism, to defend against bad people, protect good people. She asks me why don't I wouldn't just do this service my country. Asks why the serum isn't working.

Her eyes find mine at that moment and she smiles, crimson parting to reveal wolf-like teeth. I immediately relax my expression, covering the emotion with a neutral mask. Someone told me once to...to not let them see. It'll so fuzzy, a blur of training and fighting and punching and experiments. I can't remember it all.

" _Starting voltage, 200 volts."_ A clinical voice echoes over a sort of speaker system from behind the barrier.

Great, electrocution now. I'm surprised it's taken me this long to figure out. My head always seems foggy. At least this should be over fast. Maybe if I'm lucky they'll miscalculate the dosage. Just a little too much. I try to remember their past attempts to activate the serum; Sleep deprivation, starvation, waterboarding, isolation, poison, beatings, blood loss... it's all scattered and broken in my head. All four years of it.

It's quiet for a little bit, long enough that I wish they'd just pull whatever lever or push whatever button so I could just go back to my cell. I regret this as a static pops comes from the box and long needles of pain radiate from my temples. Every muscle in my body screams and seizes uncontrollably. My back arcs, sharp hip bones straining again the leather. Wetness trickles between my clenched teeth and bubbles down my chin. I can't even scream.

Darkness dances violently across my vision, but somehow I'm able to hang on to consciousness. After an eternity it stops.

I struggle to look over at the window, almost no motor control in my neck. Everything is sore and on fire. They're all busy analysing the data from their latest _experiment_.

A few seconds later machine lets out another sharp pop.

This time it's different though. Something inside of me snaps, releases. The electricity is soothing somehow in a way I can't explain. My mind is clear and sharp, like I can _feel_ each thought forming.

I feel in control.

I'm distantly aware of the machine turning off, but the electricity seems to be seeping from me, small bolts arcing between my outstretched fingers, snapping in my ears. A high buzzing noise seems to be coming from everywhere. Leather burns where it touches my skin, the contact sending up smoke of its putrid smell.

" _0298, stand down-,"_

The people in the window are staring at me and in the reflection I see myself, glowing, strapped to the table. A blue green shroud seems to surround my body, my hair weightless in the energy. Swirling turquoise spheres of energy have replaced my eyes, veins of it crawling down my face. It's mesmerizing.

The door opens and a dozen armed guards pour in. This time I'm not afraid. I don't tremble in a corner, curled in a ball, hugging my knees to my chin like I have so many times before.

Instinctively, I just release the energy. I _surge._

In slow motion, electricity arcs from my fingertips toward the men. They scream out, clothing and skin and hair burning, shaking in convulsions as they drop to the floor. It's nice not to be the one being hurt for once. More come in behind then and I do the same thing, their smoking bodies piled one on top of the other.

Eventually they stop sending people in. I can see them panic, scrambling behind the observation window. Now I'm the one studying them.

As I start working on the straps tying me down, a shrieking noise blares out of the speaker system. It dives into my brain and explodes, scrambling everything the electricity had put back together. I can't concentrate and lose my connection to the power as it burrows deep within me, hiding from the noise.

The sound stays on until the energy fades. A few minutes later, the Doctor cautiously steps in over the bodies, and is followed by the two scientists who set up today's test, one holding a small black box.

" _Well it worked didn't it? We've activated the serum."_ She said. " _Took long enough, but here we are. How do you feel 0298?"_

I grunt back at her through the leather.

" _Jesus, they're dead."_ One man said, crouching down next to the guards, his finger on one up their necks, checking for a pulse I knew wasn't there.

" _Look at this,"_ One of the other men interrupted, gloves fingers hovering an inch or two above my shoulder. I don't look, locked in a staring contest with the Doctor, but I feel a fiery pain flare across my back, shoulders and upper arms as he accidentally brushes a gloved finger against my skin. " _Lichtenberg scars. But the voltage would of have to of been equivalent to that of a lightning strike. We didn't use anywhere near that amount."_

" _The serum. Results are similar in their own way to the other subjects. We need to run more tests-,"_

" _Finally a success,"_ Their words trip over one another, talking like it's a good thing I just killed a dozen of their people.

" _Later, that's enough for today."_ The Doctor dismisses him _. "First,"_ She holds out a hand expectantly and he opens the black box, pulling a think black collar from it. She moves toward me and I twist away from her as she clips it around my neck. " _If you try it again, this will kill you before you can get it off. That noise from earlier?"_

How could I forget?

" _The frequency. We can't hear it. You can. And if we keep it on long enough..."_

I swallow, throat compressed by the weight of it. As I look down, the glow is gradually fading from my skin. The buzzing hum from the all the machines in the rooms still hasn't stopped.

I'm numb as I'm freed from the cold table and the guards hold my upper arms, my legs trailing limply behind me back to my cell. My hands are shaking, I can't even feel _anything_. I don't feel regret. Just anger.

What did they do to me?

What did I just do to them?

* * *

 **If you couldn't tell, I'm not an expert on electroshock therapy. Or anything really. I tried googling amps and volts and shit, but my brain hurts and now I have a headache (ok reading that back over I sound really dumb)... so I BSed it. Anyways hope you enjoyed and thx so much for taking the time to read!**


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